When I was a wee lad in the days when
Mad Men was set, every Friday night Dad would take the family to the
Brown Derby for a
steak and baked potato. The room was filled with
smoke, but no one noticed for my parents smoked then, and frankly almost everyone smoked before the
Surgeon General's Report on
smoking came out. Dad (and I think Mom) drank a
Manhattan. So my brother and I could fit into
cocktail culture, the
restaurant served us a
Mickey Mouse.
What was a Mickey Mouse? It was a mocktail, and if scotch and soda was big, a Mickey Mouse came with a bit of ginger ale in place of the scotch, and 7Up in the place of the soda water. Add a cherry and a little cherry juice and any eight-year old could feel like an adult and toast with the whole family. They weren't bad either, at least to my juvenile taste buds. I drank them with relish. But these days I have my own bourbon. Still, if you served me a Mickey Mouse, I wouldn't feel childish drinking one.